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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30113865">Gone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spludge237/pseuds/Spludge237'>Spludge237</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blaseball (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Elsewhere (Blaseball), F/F, Flooding Weather (Blaseball)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:35:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30113865</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spludge237/pseuds/Spludge237</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A surge of immateria hits the Wild Wings - Jazz Hands game with Summers among the people on base.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Summers Preston/Stephanie Winters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“...bases loaded, Kathy Mathews is behind in the count here, here’s the pitch… ball four! Brock Watson gets to advance, and that will bring Roscoe Sundae in for the score, 6-1 Wings. Cell, Kathy’s certainly not having a good game out there today.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s right, Cell, and with the bases still loaded, it could get worse. Tai Beanbag is up next.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tai stepping up to the plate. The weather is getting pretty wild out there. Let’s hope The Pocket’s drainage systems are up to the task. Here’s the pitch, Tai lets it go, ump calls strike”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A good start for Kathy here and… what? Ok? Folks at home, I don’t know if you can hear that, but the immateria alarms are going off here at the Pocket. We’ll resume broadcasting just as soon as everyone’s safe.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“Summers!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Summers Preston braced herself against the surging tide of immateria. Second base offered no protection, no walls to get to to try and hold on. She saw Jasper dive to the ground at third, and use his rocky form to try and crawl to the relative safety of the dugout. Cell had already taken to the air from the bullpen and was struggling to get to Brock at first base, to at least try and keep him from the worst of the damage. Summers felt the wave of immateria hit her, and push her into the outfield.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Summers!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She could barely make out the sound of someone shouting her name. She could see Yong in the dugout, exhorting her to keep fighting, to keep pushing, to hold her own against the flood rising against her. Next to Yong in the dugout sat a shell, unmoving. Again, the wave hit her, this time with a pull following after; it was getting deeper.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, Summers! You can do this!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A third surge was developing. Summers could see it, feel it. Massive in nature. She looked back at the dugout, to the shell where Stephanie Winters was trapped. It had been more than a season now, and was close approaching two. After that would be the siesta, and Steph would still be stuck. Summers had done her best to put on a brave face, to lead off the line up, to be the batter the team needed, but she was so tired. Exhausted. There was a time, she recalled, before blaseball, before she had even developed a consciousness, where she had just been the wind, sweeping over the globe, going wherever she pleased. Free. She didn’t envy that time; The Bucket had brought her a form and a mind, and those had led her to Steph, and she wouldn’t trade that for the world. But it would be good to visit that time again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Summers felt the immateria surrounding her wane as it built for one big wave. “I’ll be back.” She shouted to no one in particular. “I love you” she shouted, to one person in particular.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The immateria crashed down. When it receded, Summers was gone.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“Folks, welcome back to the XEILB-AM broadcast of this Wings away game, coming to you from Breckenridge Community Field. I’m Cell Barajas, here with Cell Barajas, and it looks like the immateria has cleared and we’ll be good to resume play shortly. As per ILB rules, we’ll start with no runners on base, Tai Beanbag at the plate on a zero-and-one count, with Kathy Matthews pitching, Wings up 6-1 at the top of the 6th, one out. Cell, any updates from the dugouts?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Cell, we’re getting word that Wings star hitter Summers Preston is nowhere to be found. I repeat, Summers Preston is elsewhere. That does not bode well for the Wings going forward.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Your right, Cell. We wish Summers a speedy recovery from wherever she is. Come home soon, Summers. Here’s the pitch and Tai makes solid contact, it’s heading towards right field, will it drop off, No! Home run, Tai Beanbag, and as he rounds the bases it’s now 7-1, Wings...”</span>
</p>
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